Chapter 161

This woman was precisely the granddaughter of the late Master Liu, who had entered the sect alongside him several years ago, seemingly named "Xiaofeng"; when she first joined, she was only about eight or nine years old, yet looked exactly like a miniature version of the "Blood Beauty Maiden."

At the time, he had been thoroughly confused, unable to determine whether she was truly the Blood Beauty Maiden or merely someone who bore an uncanny resemblance to her.

Just two years after joining, he had still been on guard, fearing the "Blood Beauty Maiden" might come to kill him to silence him.

But after she entered the sect, she vanished as if erased, leaving not a single trace.

Even when he later learned that a new disciple had become a True Disciple, he never once considered it might be her.

After all, in his mind, if she truly were the Blood Beauty Maiden, her infiltration into the Four Symbols Sect must have had some hidden agenda—she would naturally remain extremely low-profile.

But now it seemed she was not the real "Blood Beauty Maiden" at all—she had become the Four Symbols Sect's second Qi Condensation True Disciple, the famed "Lin Shijie."

Wang Yu watched the girl in the red dress from afar, genuinely at a loss for words.

From the appearance of Old Ancestor Tianchan, he clearly held this "Lin Shijie" in high regard—not only had he given her several instructions, but he had also pulled something from his robes and handed it to her.

Using his instant-activated hyper-vision, Wang Yu faintly made out what appeared to be a golden talisman.

The "Lin Shijie" took the talisman with a cheerful grin, then turned alone and plunged into the passage.

In mere moments, more than half of the eight hundred disciples had entered; only about two hundred remained in the camp.

"Fellow junior brothers and sisters, let's ascend as well. This position is neither too front nor too back—it's the most stable." Huang Shixiong spoke up at this moment, leading the way into the sky; Li Tianqi and the others naturally followed, taking to the air.

Wang Yu sighed and could only silently rise into the sky, following after them.

The group bowed to Old Ancestor Tianchan; the Jin Dan elder's gaze swept over them briefly, then merely nodded at Huang Shixiong, saying nothing.

Each of them took a talisman from the side of a somewhat familiar Foundation Establishment elder, then flew toward the white passage in the sky.

Huang Shixiong was the first to dash into it; a flash of white light curled around him, and he vanished instantly.

Then Li Tianqi, Sun Shixiong, and Liu Shimei followed one after another into the passage.

After a brief flicker of his form, Wang Yu was the last to enter the white passage.

He felt a flash of blinding white light, a dizzying sensation of vertigo, the surroundings blurred—and suddenly he appeared high in the air, plummeting rapidly downward as his levitation technique failed.

Wang Yu was startled; without thinking, he swiftly formed a hand seal, and the white clouds that had just vanished from his body reappeared, wrapping around him and slowing his fall until he halted midair. But as he scanned the surroundings, his pupils contracted sharply.

He found himself hovering above a barren, treeless slope; in the distance, dense forests loomed faintly, and below, two black-robed men with nearly identical faces stared up at him in shock—no one else was anywhere nearby.

Disciples of the Black Soul Sect!

What the hell?

The entry point into the Jialan Secret Realm from the outer passage was random!

Seeing this, Wang Yu instantly understood what had happened; he cursed inwardly, flipped his hand, and a hive-like firearm-artifact appeared in his grip—the "Wind and Fire Chant."

The two Black Soul Sect disciples below also realized the situation and immediately rejoiced; one pulled a white bone banner from his back, while the other slapped his waist pouch, and a torrent of black mist surged forth, revealing seven or eight white skeletons, each clad in bone helmets and armor, holding massive bone crossbows.

But before either could attack, Wang Yu swung his artifact once—the hive-like barrel rotated, and a chorus of "swooshes" erupted as ten or more streaks of fire shot from the gun barrels, vanishing in an instant and engulfing the skeletal warriors beneath.

A thunderous roar erupted; where the fiery projectiles struck the ground, they exploded into blazing fireballs, instantly shattering the white skeletons into flying bone shards.

"Damn!"

The Black Soul Sect disciple who summoned the skeletons turned pale with terror, rolled hastily to the ground, and ducked behind his companion, narrowly avoiding the searing flames; frantically, he pulled out a thick, bone-white shield and raised it before himself.

The disciple holding the bone banner swiftly waved his banner, releasing swirling clouds of black mist that enveloped both himself and his companion, equally shocked and enraged.

But Wang Yu, hovering above, remained expressionless; he pointed his artifact downward twice more. The hive barrel spun rapidly twice, and two more waves of fiery light shot down from above.

"Go!"

The disciple holding the bone shield roared in fury, hurling the shield skyward—it transformed into a vast white curtain that rushed upward to intercept the attack.

The other disciple, holding the bone banner, plunged it into the ground before him, both hands forming seals; before him, wisps of gray-white eerie flames flickered into existence, as if preparing some dark art.

The thunderous roar echoed again; massive fireballs exploded across the white curtain, shaking it violently, blurring its form as if it would shatter at any moment.

The Black Soul Sect disciple channeling the eerie flames, seeing this, did not panic—instead, he sneered cruelly, ready to unleash his secret technique. But the next instant, a "hiss-hiss" sound erupted from the ground beneath him; a hundred golden rays shot forth like a rainstorm, vanishing in an instant, piercing through the black mist and turning the two Black Soul Sect disciples into swarms of holes.

The two Black Soul Sect disciples screamed, their bodies covered in countless bloodied punctures; thick streams of blood spurted from vital points, and they collapsed instantly, limp and lifeless on the ground.

At that moment, the white curtain above, deprived of its caster's control, was torn apart by the raging flames, which instantly engulfed the two dark disciples.

Wang Yu, hovering in the air, slowly released the hand seal he had been holding; the "Golden Needle Technique" rune in his spiritual sea likewise dimmed.

Although he could activate this technique instantly with a mere thought, forming the seal still helped him better control its power and precision—and he did not wish to draw attention to his abnormal spellcasting, so he now cultivated the habit of forming seals and silently reciting incantations.

That way, if anyone noticed his unnaturally fast casting, he could offer an explanation—perhaps claiming he had practiced the technique to exceptional proficiency.

He did not immediately descend; instead, he waited until the flames below had burned everything in the vicinity to ash, then drifted down calmly.

Indeed, on the ground, the two dark disciples had already turned to ash, leaving only a broken bone banner, a charred bone shield, and two storage pouches.

Wang Yu raised a hand in surprise; the two storage pouches flew into his grasp. Aside from a faint scent of charring, they were completely intact.

A thought crossed his mind, and he immediately understood.

Although he had replaced the Wind and Fire Chant's arrow inscriptions with Fireball Technique, this spell lacked the enhancement of a top-grade Fire Spirit Root, and its power was far weaker than his own direct casting—the heat was insufficient to destroy the storage pouches.

He happily tucked away the two storage pouches, then waved his hand again to retrieve the two broken artifacts, and rose into the air, diving into the dense forest not far from the slope.